


A Part of His Plan?

by The_Falcon



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Deckerstar - Freeform, Episode parallels, F/M, a bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-01-17 08:53:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12362124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Falcon/pseuds/The_Falcon
Summary: We travel back in time to find out there are chance encounters that leave a special mark in our lives. It happened to Lucifer. It also happened to Chloe. The characters' pasts are more interlinked than we realized, and it changes the way certain scenes play out on the show.A special thanks toBelenP, a fantastic beta who always points out that which totally escapes me and pushes me to do my best.





	1. A Strange Tingling

**A Strange Tingling**

Summer was particularly lovely in the city humans had ironically baptized ‘Los Angeles’. Funny creatures, humans. Always complaining about the infernal heat this time of year. A euphemism nobody ever seemed to shy away from, never giving the preposterous fallacy a second thought. Sure, Hell had many levels, but the toasty climate sweeping through the city of angels during the current heat wave was an arctic blast in comparison. 

Despite its glorified name, the place was far from angelic, which was, without a doubt, it’s most appealing feature. Under the glamour and the pretense, lurked a darker underbelly. A sinful playground that the Devil found hard to resist, not that he bothered to even try. 

_Where would be the fun in that?_

Lucifer had traveled the world several times over. And then a few times after that. He had lived for short periods in places like Bangkok, and Sydney, and Buenos Aires, and Shanghai, and Verona, and Timbuktu. He’d spent the better part of the nineteenth century between Hell and London, even outstaying his welcome when a series of gruesome murders had the entire metropolitan area in a panicked frenzy, and Scotland Yard embarrassingly stumped. Of course, in due time, the Devil had welcomed the culprit with open arms at the gates of Hell. Though not nearly as eagerly as Maze, who had a slew of torments ready for him down in the seventh level. Lucifer might have been stunned as to his identity, had he not suspected the man capable of such viciousness while attending one of his lectures at Oxford. 

But the most enjoyable part of the process was always what Lucifer referred to as “the sinner’s surprise”. Overwhelming dread falls short of describing the reaction of those who witness the Devil’s grin the moment he sheds his elegant human form and morphs into their worst nightmare. 

_Bastards never know what hits them…_

Perhaps Lucifer’s fascination with the city of angels was precisely that. The masks. The subterfuge. The mystery of what laid under the bright lights and perpetual smiles and expensive lifestyles. The desire to peel away its endless layers, only to discover the ugly truth beneath. As his fascination with Los Angeles grew over the years, so did his need to belong. 

He’d been walking through Echo Park in the relative heat, fresh as a cucumber in contrast to those around him who were clearly bogged down by the high temperatures, when he stumbled upon a children’s playground. The sight of it drew a low groan deep within the Devil’s throat. 

_Bloody Hell! Damned things are popping up like mushrooms these days!_

Before he had the chance to change course, a group of kids on Schwinns rushed past him, laughing obnoxiously and narrowly missing him by a hairline. Lucifer snarled a nasty curse between clenched teeth and marched over to the nearest bench to plot his revenge should the little shits returned riding those appalling contraptions. A simple stick hurled at the right angle could send the first rider in the group tumbling, then the rest would follow suit. It’d be a marvelous sight to behold. 

His eyes scanned the playground, and he spotted a scrawny blond boy licking at an ice cream cone with gusto. His nose and mouth were covered in chocolate. The dripping ice cream had him engaged in a fierce battle against the sweltering heat. The boy regarded his messy hand through thick glasses, then lapped the back of his fingers, still curled around the cone. A bigger boy came up behind him and shoved him hard. The scrawny boy landed flat on the ground, face buried in the melting chocolate, eyeglasses and all. 

Lucifer laughed. 

A teenager half walked, half danced across his field of vision, lost in the world of ‘pop’. Now music came nicely wrapped in a square yellow box that delivered the sound straight to one’s ears thanks to a company called “Sony”. Ingenious, though sorely lacking the magnificence of a live piano concerto. Of course, there were those who loved subjecting others to the pounding sounds of the so called "techno music" and propped a cumbersome device over their shoulder to ensure everybody around them endured the rhythmic beat. Lucifer estimated deafness in the ear nearest the throbbing speakers would shortly follow. 

He relaxed against the back of the bench, and was quick to guffaw at a chunky kid who had just been victim to an epic wedgie by the burly boy who had earlier bullied the scrawny ice cream licker. Children could be deliciously cruel. That naughty one was well on his way to becoming a worthy addition to his nasty soul collection. Fortunately, they were rarely sent to him this young. Dear Ole Dad had a soft spot for the little critters, and redemption was a big part of His schtick, so there was that. Not that Lucifer was about to complain. There were few things in existence he despised more than children. 

Grinning broadly, he watched on as the scene kept playing comically before him. His fun was interrupted when he felt a soft knock against his left shoe. Lucifer bent down to pick up the source of his distraction. It was a small ball that might have been white at some point, not that it was easy to tell. A baseball, perhaps? Was that the name of the game all these humans kept crowing about? Yet another annoying aspect of the whole playground experience, and a far cry from the type of balls he preferred to indulge in. 

“Hey, mister! Could you give me back my ball?” 

His scowl deepened as he turned in the direction of the petulant voice. Just as he did, his dark gaze met a pair of huge grey-blue eyes looking up at him defiantly. His breath hitched in his throat and, for an instant, the world stopped turning. He blinked once, twice, thrown off kilter for some bizarre reason. On the surface, there didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary about the child. She was wearing denim overalls and a blue baseball cap over a shortish ash blonde bob. Lucifer could only guestimate as to her age, but judging by her tiny frame and toothless lisp, she couldn’t have been more than… 

_Oh, Hell! What did he know about human spawn!_

Petite as she was, she exuded inner strength. Her full lips, impossibly red against her pale skin, were pursed in a semipout. But it was her no-nonsense stance that spoke volumes and made her appear self-assured and mature beyond her years. 

Sporting a tight grin, Lucifer stood up with the sole purpose of towering over her. This caused the girl to tilt her head skyward and squint up at his silhouette as he blocked the sun above her. Rather than cowering by his size, which was easily three times her height and weight, or be intimidated by his presence like so many others, she stood her ground. 

“Sir, the ball, please,” she insisted. 

Her tiny fist came to rest on her hip and she extended her arm towards him. A hint of impatience had tinged her voice. Lucifer found her entire demeanor oddly amusing. _Sassy little minx!_ It was enough for him to huff out a scoff of approval and place the ball on her outstretched hand without further taunting. Their fingers brushed as he did, albeit for a fraction of a second. 

It was all it took for the skin at the base of his wings to tingle strangely. A sensation he had never felt before. 

It took all of Lucifer’s self-control to keep his cool. He stood on the spot, mysteriously petrified as the girl took off running into the crowd of children horsing around in the playground. His heart was racing like a wild horse, and he found himself struggling to still himself. 

_What the Hell…?_

From that moment on, Lucifer kept his curious gaze on her, completely absorbed by the peculiar little human. He watched her and a slightly older boy throw the ball back and forth more times than he cared to count. Ignored the horde of kids that wheezed past him on their bikes, his clever vengeance long forgotten. At one point, he saw the burly boy head in her direction and yank the blue cap off her head. The little girl swirled around with indignation and tried to recover her cap. The bully sneered and mocked her mercilessly, reveling in her frustration. Lucifer felt a bubble of anger begin to build in the pit of his stomach. He watched the girl getting more and more agitated, lunging forward to try and snatch the cap from the boy’s grasp to no avail. The boy’s laughter grated on his nerves, and when he saw the hard shove that propelled the girl backwards and made her fall painfully to the ground, Lucifer had about enough of the bully’s antics. He took a menacing step forward, eyes blazing with rage. Then stopped in his tracks when he witnessed the girl rush forward and kick the boy in the groin so hard, it made the Devil grimace in sympathy. 

_Well done, little human!_

The chorus of laughing kids was already dissipating when a man in a cop’s uniform called the little girl’s attention. 

“There you are!” he smiled. “Are you ready to go, Monkey?” 

Lucifer squared his shoulders and observed from afar as they got inside a patrol car and drove away. Still a bit shaken by the strange encounter, he began his trek back to the beach. This particular visit had come to an end. Once he crossed over, he would make sure to habilitate a special section on the fifth level just for bullies. 

It seemed only fair, after all. 

******** 

_Twenty eight Earth years later…_

Music always managed to soothe his nerves, and in light of recent events, it felt like he’d been playing for hours. A forgotten cigarette consumed itself next to the short glass of single malt scotch on the grand piano, the sixth one of the evening. A surprisingly low count by his standards. 

He heard her voice, but didn’t bother looking up from the comforting pattern of the dipping and rising keys. 

“Lucifer Morningstar. Is that a stage name or somethin’?” 

He was unable to hold back a chuckle. “God given, I’m afraid.” His gaze finally trailed up to assess the visitor. She looked nothing like a cop. Not one he had ever encountered before, anyway. Yet, a flash of awareness coursed through him, and his eyes narrowed. “You look familiar, have we met before?” 

“Yeah, five minutes ago,” she said curtly. “And I’m asking the questions.” 

The conversation progressed into the interrogation it was meant to be, and that initial feeling of familiarity diluted into something else. 

The Devil recognized it immediately. 

It was lust. 

Lucifer kept up with her banter, which he appeared to enjoy far more than she did. Only once the detective had left LUX did the Devil allow himself to wallow in the memory her sudden visit had unlocked. And, though her stellar performance in a teen R-rated movie would come to dawn on him later, he would have recognized those grey-blue eyes anywhere. Not that he would let her in on that little secret. Not until he could figure her out, at least. 

_Well, well, well! It appears little feisty thing’s all grown up!_

Now, if only the scars on his back would stop tingling strangely... 

**[To be continued in another flashback… should readers be interested in such a series of fics]**


	2. Guardian Angel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your kind comments and feedback. Since this fic is no  
> longer a stand-alone, but has turned into an on-going project, the chapters  
> will be a series of flashbacks and flashforwards that will exist parallel  
> to what goes on in the series, and will delve into what might have happened  
> before. Anyway, I hope you enjoy them.
> 
>  
> 
> A huge thanks to my beta, **BelenP** , for her input and  
> on-going support.

** Guardian Angel  **

Chloe was surprised to see him walk through the door on time. Punctuality wasn't one of Lucifer's virtues, so when he sat across from her at the booth sporting a mild grin, she almost thought it rude having ordered her sparkling water ahead of his arrival. They had agreed to meet at 'Electric Owl', a new trendy place near the office. She had spent the entire day wrapping up the latest case, and dealing with other issues that had come up with older cases. By the time five o'clock had come around, she could barely see straight and her neck was so stiff she could already feel a looming headache, so she had no qualms stepping out for a couple of hours to clear her head before going back to finish her last report. Of course, her partner had been absent for most of the day, declaring desk duty too boring for the measly consultant pay. So, predictably, he'd vanished by mid-morning. 

Now, he sat across from her, fresh as a cucumber. 

"Finally! I managed to pry you away from the mountain of paperwork that according to you 'could not wait to be dealt with'," he teased. A frown creased his brow at the sight of the drink menu. "But why couldn't you swing by Lux? I mean, what is up with these concoctions? I've seen fruit salads with less fruit in them." 

"What is it you want to talk about, Lucifer? It's been a hell of a week, and I can't wait to get home and soak in a warm bath for about an hour." 

The moment the statement left her lips she winced inwardly and braced herself for the salacious comeback. But Lucifer didn't take the bait. Then again, things hadn't really been the same between them ever since he left for Vegas. She still couldn't figure out what she'd done wrong. One minute they were kissing like there was no tomorrow, the next she was fighting for her life, and then the next he was gone. Just like that. Maybe it was for the best, anyway. Heartbroken as she'd been for weeks, it would've been all the worse if things had gotten any further, and then he had decided to bail. At least now they had settled into a comfortable partnership, or so she kept trying to convince herself. 

"Hard work is overrated, Detective. Stress tends to age humans in a terrible way. Perhaps you ought to think about going on holiday. Daniel seemed to enjoy Hawaii." 

Chloe blinked, a bit baffled by his suggestion. "You want me to go to Hawaii?" 

"I'd be happy to get you and your offspring a couple of first class tickets," he grinned. "There's a travel agent in West Hollywood who owes me a fav—" 

"I'm not going on vacation," she cut him off. "You have any idea how far behind I am with paperwork? There's a stack of reports on my desk that need to be filed, and it's not like I can count on you to lighten the workload, Mr. Civilian Consultant!" 

"I've helped you with those before," he said defensively. 

"I wouldn't call shredding court documents helping with the paperwork. Besides, since when do you care about me being stressed out?" 

Lucifer seemed to be at a loss for words. A rare occurrence in Chloe's experience. It was painfully obvious there was something he wasn't saying out right. It appeared, beating around the bush was cramping his 'sharp as a whip' style. 

"Is it really that hard to believe that I care about my partner's wellbeing?" he finally chortled. "You're looking rather thin these days, by the way. Let me get us a couple of steaks while we're here. Look, these even come garnished with a pineapple slice." He scoffed with disbelief. "Bloody hell, now I've seen it all!" 

It was barely five fifteen. Not even the early birds had arrived for dinner yet. Chloe was about to crack a nursing home joke, but thought better of it. Lucifer seemed troubled, and it was easy to guess why. Last night had been a close call. A _very_ close call. If it hadn't been for Pierce, she'd be taking a dirt nap right about now. She had poured herself into the work to avoid thinking about it, but it was clear Lucifer wasn't handling it nearly as well. It was probably the reason why his quirkiness had increased tenfold. Unfortunately, 'worried Lucifer' often translated into 'quirky Lucifer', and the signs were unmistakable. 

"I really can't." Chloe smiled, letting him down easy. The emotional burden was too great to dwell on recent events, and she could tell that's where the conversation would eventually lead. It wasn't the time, nor the place. "Maze promised to cook tonight, which means we'll probably be having Chinese take-out. Besides, I'd like to stop by the hospital before going home." 

"The hospital? Why…?" The rest of the sentence trailed, and what was left of his smile faded into a quiet 'oh'. 

A shadow of something unrecognizable flashed across his expression. Chloe bit her lower lip, felt a strange tug in the pit of her stomach. She shouldn't feel guilty for visiting the person who saved her life at the hospital. 

_God! Why was she feeling so damn guilty?_

"It's the least I can do," she said. 

"Right." His lips curled into a humorless smile. "I guess that explains the corny basket in the backseat of your car." 

He was either utterly clueless or incredibly perceptive. Either way, he never ceased to keep her guessing. 

"He saved my life," she mumbled meekly, and felt even worse when Lucifer offered her a quiet nod in return. 

"Detective, I—" 

"Have you decided what you're gonna have?" 

The bubbly waitress had just materialized out of thin air. Or so it seemed. Apparently, the knack for just 'popping up' when least expected was a job qualification in the hospitality industry. The interruption had irked Lucifer to an unsuspected degree. Not that the poor girl had a clue as to how much of a nuisance he found her presence to be at that very moment. His serene façade, however, couldn't fool Chloe. She knew him too well not to notice the way his long fingers had twitched, how his eyes had narrowed slightly, or his jaw clenched almost imperceptibly. 

"Bourbon. Neat." 

The velvety quality to his voice gave nothing away. 

"Wow! Not many people ask for those. You got that 'old world charm' goin'!" 

Lucifer's lips stretched into a sinister smile. "You've no idea." 

She giggled at his statement without giving it a second thought. The obvious flirting didn't faze him. Chloe rolled her eyes at the all too common effect of his eternal magnetism, and when the waitress turned to her, she tried her best to hide her contempt. 

"How 'bout you, hon?" 

"Oh, I'll stick with water, thank you." 

Chloe watched as the waitress walked briskly towards the bar, expertly ignoring the blatant signaling of a patron in a nearby table. 

"Jerry Blackcrow was arrested this morning," she said turning back to Lucifer. His face became somber at the mention of the thug. "He was found bloodied and hogtied to a bow cleat in Malibu," she informed him holding his stare. "You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?" 

Lucifer leaned against the backrest and offered her a bitter smirk. "What can I say? Karma can be quite a bitch." 

"Lucifer—" 

"He shot at you, Detective!" he snarled. All traces of humor had vanished from his voice. "He can thank a certain _guardian angel_ I didn't finish the job." 

That iron fist in the pit of Chloe's stomach became even more constrictive, causing her eyes to burn with unshed tears. 

"You wouldn't," she said thickly. "You're not a murderer." 

A surreal silence stretched between them. When Lucifer broke it, Chloe's chest tightened. 

"Are you sure about that?" he whispered. 

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "You refuse to let me in, insist on pushing me away. I'll never know who you really are or, rather, the person you so desperately try to hide. And I've learned to be okay with that because we make a great team. We're partners. To me, that _is_ the real you." 

Lucifer's eyes softened on hers as he regarded her silently for a moment. 

"To be honest, Detective, _I_ don't even know the real me anymore." 

He sounded disturbed, and Chloe had to fight the urge to reach out and hold his hand, if only to offer him some comfort. He must have noticed her inner struggle, because he broke eye contact and shifted uncomfortably on the seat. She had only seen him this nervous on a handful of occasions, and it had never ended well. Lifting his chin in defiance of whatever was holding him back, he finally took the plunge. 

"I've never been afraid of anything. Ever. An entire existence living in the moment without thinking of what may come next can be rather exhilarating. I suppose there were some who admired that quality. Yet, others clearly envied it. I never truly thought much of it. Figured whatever life brings your way is up for grabs, consequences be damned, quite literally in my case." His gaze searched hers, playful for an instant before dimming down. "And then one day I met you. A not so random encounter as it turns out, but that's beside the point. In any case, Detective, that's when I learned about fear." Chloe swallowed dryly, but didn't say anything, opting instead to listen as he continued speaking softly. "I can't say I much care for the feeling. It is overwhelming and paralyzing, and the thought of anybody hurting you just…" His frown intensified, and he seemed lost for a moment. "The first time it happened I could've ripped the bastard limb from bloody limb!" 

Chloe tried to smile, but failed. "Jimmy Barnes." 

Her words didn't seem to register right away. Lucifer looked confused for a second, as if he'd been lost in an entirely different memory, before chuckling out the name, hatred dripping from every syllable. 

"I know how much yesterday's incident freaked you out," Chloe told him. "But these things happen sometimes. I'm a cop, Lucifer. It comes with the job. Besides, I can take care of myself." 

"Indeed, you can." The statement was wrapped in warmth and pride. 

He was still holding something back, and Chloe's probing nature couldn't let it drop. 

"I wish I could use that weird hypnosis mojo on you to pry out what you're finding so hard to tell me," she half-joked. 

Lucifer huffed out a sad chuckle and, in a rare moment of weakness, spoke bereft of his usual cockiness. 

"There's so much I'd love for you to understand," he whispered. "If you only knew how much…" 

"How much _what_?" she prompted when he stalled. 

He let out a lungful of air and summoned the courage to blurt out what had been on his mind all day. 

"How much you mean to me." 

She was shocked by the shedding of his sardonic self in lieu of his more vulnerable side. She hadn't expected it, and it rattled her. Chloe should have found such affirmation endearing, and a few months ago she would have melted at the sound of such confession. But a lot had happened since their fleeting affair and, instead, she felt a bubble of raw anger rising to the surface. 

"Stop," she gritted. "Do not go down this road." 

Though he acquiesced, his facial expression said it all, opening up the emotional cracks she had worked so hard to conceal. 

"You can't do this, Lucifer!" She held onto her rage, her only anchor at that point. "You're about to cross a line I don't think you're willing to tread. And frankly, nor am I. I'm playing by _your_ rules! You wanted to keep our relationship professional and I respected your wishes! Why are you doing this?" It was already too late. Chloe knew she had lost the battle against her emotions when the lump in her throat became too thick to swallow. "I… I gotta go." Before she could make a fool of herself in front of him by breaking down in a public place, she slid out of the booth with a barely audible apology and dashed for the exit. 

Chloe heard Lucifer's distraught plea as she rushed past the bar. 

"Detective!" 

It took all of her will power not to look back. 

* * *

The basket consisted of an assortment of nuts, dried fruit and crackers, with a handful of Ferrero Rocher chocolates peppered throughout for a touch of gold that contrasted with the smallish silver bows intended to give it a festive flair. She was beginning to think the silk rose and the pink bow that tied the arrangement together were a bit too feminine a touch. _Oh, who was she kidding?_ Lucifer was right. It was corny and lame. But Chloe wasn't sure whether the lieutenant liked fancy wine or Champagne, or even if he drank at all. Obviously the meds would prevent him from drinking alcohol altogether, so liquor was out of the question anyway. So nuts, crackers, fruit and chocolate in a girly looking basket it was. A worthy gift for grandma. Pathetic, really. _Damn!_ She should've gone with flowers. 

"You're gonna say hello, Decker, or you're just gonna creep 'round the room?" 

The deep voice made her turn around, and she found herself smiling with relief at the sight of the man who, just the night before, had saved her life. He looked a bit pale, but much better than he did when he was first admitted to the hospital. 

"Sorry, Lieutenant, I didn't know if you were sleeping or not," she said awkwardly. "I wanted to say thank you for what you did." 

"It's just part of the job. It's no big deal," he dismissed. 

"No. It's a huge deal. You saved my life." She thought of Trixie, and her heart sank. "I'm _so_ grateful." 

"And you saved mine," he said with finality. "We're even." 

She was never great at receiving compliments, so she quickly steered the conversation to safer ground. Small talk. 

"So, have you ever been injured on the job before?" 

He was pensive for a moment, his thoughts turned inward. "I've had a few scrapes," he told her quietly. "The possibility of death has never felt so real before." 

"Yeah, you know, when I was shot I was completely freaked out," she said, trying to relate to him, or comfort him somehow. The truth was she wasn't sure why she began rambling about such a personal moment in her life. Perhaps the fact that he was also a cop who'd been shot on the job made her feel as though the shared experience might lessen the pain. Perhaps she just kept talking because there was not much else she could do to thank him for his enormous sacrifice. Half way through her spiel, however, she got the feeling he wasn't really listening. And though he was polite enough to nod every now and then, his mind was clearly elsewhere. She took it as her cue to reel in the conversation into the professional arena. 

"Speaking of work, I should get back and finish up Blackcrow's arrest sheet," she said. "I don't know if you've heard but he turned up half beaten, hogtied in Malibu. Karma, I guess…" Blackgrow's mugshot popped into her brain, his face swollen and bruised from the brutal beating. She felt her chest tighten once again, and pushed the image to a remote corner of her mind. "Anyhow. Thanks again for the whole life saving thing." 

Pierce smiled up at her. "Couldn't let anything happen to my best detective." 

The words shocked and flattered her in equal measure. 

"So now I'm your 'best detective'." 

His expression belied the humor that was absent in his tone when he replied, "I didn't want you to get all full of yourself." The statement made her blush. What he said next, however, made her heart clench. "I can see why Lucifer is so affected by you. It's because you're special, Decker." 

Chloe couldn't have anticipated his words hitting her as hard as they did. _No, please, don't go there. Don't go there…_ But her treacherous mind ignored her pleas and dragged her to the moment she had been desperately trying to forget for months. 

_You deserve someone as good as you. You're special. And I'm not worthy._

A sudden knock on the door brought her out of her reverie. She was beyond grateful to see Dan peeking into the room with an apologetic expression on his face. The distraction allowed her heartbeat to even out and the lump in her throat to ease before either man noticed the way her eyes had begun to water. 

They say 'time cures everything'. Chloe was beginning to seriously doubt that. 

* * *

Lucifer watched Lieutenant Pierce's sleeping form from the threshold of the quiet room. It was already late, and the hallways were deserted, save for the occasional presence of the duty nurse checking on a patient here and there. The detective had left an hour ago. He had been careful not to bump into her at the hospital, so it was only when he saw her patrol car pulling out of the parking lot that he made his way into the building. The basket she'd brought in had been carefully propped on the table by the window, cheesy bow prominently visible from the patient's vantage point. How very thoughtful of her, he thought with chagrin. His gaze traveled back to Pierce, so still on the bed he looked almost… Lucifer's eyes narrowed, an overwhelming feeling of familiarity washing over him like a tidal wave. It had been happening ever since they first met, and it was driving him up the wall. They had met before, of that he was certain. But the devil couldn't put his finger on where, or even when. 

Of course, as much as he wanted to ignore the nauseating feeling that had descended upon him, he couldn't deny the fact that the bloke had saved his detective's life. He supposed he ought to be grateful for that, yet all he felt was anger and self-loathing. Surely, dear Old Dad would protect the miracle He had created using any tools at His divine disposal. But not having been there for Chloe had left Lucifer reeling with impotence. He'd felt responsible for her safety ever since Jimmy Barnes had pulled that trigger, way before that, if he was going to be honest with himself. And just when the nasty feeling became intense enough to make him physically ill, it dawned on him. 

He directed his furious gaze skyward, hands clenched into fists. 

"This is all a part of _Your_ bloody plan, isn't it?" he mumbled. "Another scheme to teach me a lesson, right?" 

Apparently making him feel like shit was his Father's way of enlightening him. How very typical of his cruel tactics. The worst part was that He always seemed to succeed. 

His phone vibrated against his chest and he fished it out of the inside pocket of his jacket. 

A text message from the detective. 

_Sorry about before. Shouldn't have stormed out like that._

Lucifer's lips curled upwards, his foul mood dissipating at the mere sight of her written words. 

_It is quite all right, Detective. I will see you tomorrow at the office, bright and early, unless the stack of papers on your desk remains unhandled, in which case I will not be able to come in until after lunch._

She had often teased him about his insistence on using proper grammar while writing a text message when condensed language would suffice. It was all the more reason for him to continue doing so. He secretly enjoyed being the subject of her exasperation, and would often go out of his way to get a rise out of her just to witness her impassionate reaction, which he found utterly fascinating. Besides, he'd already tried the 'all emoji' approach, and she hadn't been able to decipher those, causing her to rant in exasperation about that too. There was no pleasing her when it came to texting, and it was deliciously entertaining! 

_Lol! K. See u tomorrow._

Lucifer's grin broadened, a peculiar warmth spreading across his heart at the sight of the smiley face at the end of the message. 

**[To Be Continued…]**


	3. A Treacherous Journey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments, kudos and bookmarks. You guys are great! :-) As always, a huge thank you to my beta **BelenP** for all her help and advice.

Angels don’t experience emotion the same way humans do. Their actions are generally guided by structure. In the Silver City, there are rules to be followed. There’s harmony. And there was never really a sense of right and wrong. Not until Samael came along, anyway. The youngest of the clan had been keen on defying his Father’s rules practically from his inception. True, it must have been a part of God’s plan to strike a balance in the universe He had so craftily created. Or so it ought to be assumed, because nobody really knew what the Creator had ultimately in mind. 

At first, Samael’s shenanigans could be dismissed as a series of youthful indiscretions. Something his more rigid siblings such as Raphael or Amenadiel frowned upon. But, despite his rebelliousness, nobody could deny the fact that Samael was special. He was God’s favorite son, after all. He was the Light Bringer. As such, he had been the reason stars shone brightly in the heavens, and why others exploded in spectacular supernovas when his temper got the better of him. Impulsiveness was a rare quality in an angel, and what Samael lacked in temperance he more than made up in exuberance. Perhaps it was such passion which kept feeding his growing power, a recurring inconvenience that had prompted the Divine Council to discuss on more occasions than should have been considered reasonable. 

But Samael was impossible to tame. That much became clear by the time planets began cooling down in the youngest galaxies. No matter how egregious the transgression, forgiveness always followed. And, like with so many traits about their Father, His patience seemed also eternal. 

It all started to change when God began pouring all His attention into His latest project: breathing life into a small rock, third from a mid-sized star in a remote corner of a galaxy that would later be cleverly labeled ‘the Milky Way’ by His own creation. It didn’t look like much at first. Thoroughly unimpressed, Samael would roll his eyes and scoff at the boring single cell organisms that did nothing more than exist in a mass of salty water. Any time someone brought up the rock’s progress, his sardonic grin would accompany a very unimpressed ‘ _fascinating_ ’, right before changing the subject. By the time those entities left the oceans and began roaming the surface of the rock, they became centesimally more interesting. Contrary to God’s, however, Samael’s patience had a limited shelf life. Bored and jealous in equal measure, he couldn’t figure out why his Father had become so enthralled with something so imperfect it needed to evolve over time. 

The only recourse to regain the attention he had lost over those lesser creatures, he figured, was to up his ante. 

Samael’s first visit to Earth left him furious and bewildered. _How could his Father neglect the family over these knuckle draggers? What was so fascinating about them anyway?_ As his perplexity grew, so did his disdain for humanity. They seemed to fall in step with God’s rules without question. And though Dear Old Dad had assured him the creatures enjoyed the luxury of free will, Samael wasn’t so sure. To him, they were nothing more than a stupid experiment designed to distract his Dad from more important celestial matters, like His favorite son. 

It was almost dawn on Earth the day it all changed. Samael descended to the most beautiful garden in the land in a beam of light, showing off as the famed morning star to their awestruck inhabitants. He walked down a valley so fertile one could barely see the sky above through the foliage of the plentiful trees. His first encounter with a homo erectus was interesting, to say the least. It was a female, by his estimation, so the male of the species was probably in the vicinity. From what he gathered, it took two humans to make a third one, and the world was slowly getting populated, much to his chagrin. The more humans, the greater the competition for His Father’s affection. 

The creature looked up at him with wide eyes. Angels were forbidden to show themselves to humans, not that Samael payed much attention to the endless litany of senseless rules put in place by his controlling Father. He figured, therefore, this one had never seen an angel before. She was particularly fascinated with his wings, feature which appeared to be missing from her own back. To be fair, they were both virgins in human/angel encounters, and she seemed as curious about him, as he was about her. 

_So, it was true. God had made these human creatures in His celestial image._

_Sort of…_

The human didn’t speak. Then again, a semi-sophisticated form of language wouldn’t develop for a few more centuries. It turned out reading their body language was easier than Samael would have thought, not that he wasted all that much time thinking about humanity. Yet, the hunger he saw in the creature’s eyes was unmistakable. The question was, hunger for _what_? 

Confused, Samael picked an apple from a low branch and offered it to her. She took it from his hand and examined it before taking a small bite. Smiling up at him through a mouthful of apple, she took a step closer, her naked body brushing up against his silver tunic. It was all it took for Samael to notice the strange rush of heat spreading throughout his own body, which responded in ways he had never experienced before. _Interesting…_ The hunger the human felt was of an entirely different kind. 

_Oh…_

He hesitated for a second, shocked and puzzled by what this human was stirring within him. A slow smile spread across his face as he gave into the experience, Father’s rules be damned. 

The highest authorities in the Divine Council awaited him upon his return to the Silver City. Samael let out a low groan when he was greeted at the pearly gates by Aswan, God’s personal ambassador. The contempt on the envoy’s face was evident, his slender frame poised with disapproval, his stoic face giving nothing away, save for a pair of old, shrewd eyes that some claimed could freeze even the Devil’s soul. _The Devil_. Samael laughed at the thought. He’d never believed in those old prophecies. Stories about the rise of a serpent, the Prince of Darkness, had floated around the Silver City for eons. No one even knew the location of this horrid place they all spoke of in whispers. The place called Hell. As far as Samael was concerned, all those stories were nothing more than a myth propagated to ensure order was preserved in a universe that could, in his opinion, use a bit more fun. 

_Your Father wants to see you._

Aswan’s voice was even, giving Samael no other choice but to follow him quietly. 

He wasn’t a fool. He recognized the futility of raising an argument in his own defense. And though the Silver City had no constrains such as time or distance, the journey to God’s temple felt like a short eternity. Once there, the ambassador gave him a curt nod and stood aside to let him in. 

For the first time since he could remember, Samael felt the load of his very soul weighing him down. It wasn’t like he feared his Father, but God rarely became personally involved in his punishments, whether it was herding cherubs or managing spinning galaxies. The mere fact He had requested to see him in person unsettled the young angel. But his curiosity was greater than his cautiousness, so he stood proudly in the nave of the temple. He even dared to speak first. 

_I gather You’ve heard about my little Earthly adven—_

_SILENCE!_

God’s voice boomed across the entire city, the ancient language echoing across the universe. 

Samael barely flinched. 

_Do you have any idea what you have done?_

To be honest, Samael wasn’t all that sure as to what had transpired with the female human down on Earth. Sex had been a completely foreign concept to him until a few hours ago. He had enjoyed it. It had been a lot of fun, but he hadn’t given it much thought beyond that. He certainly didn’t ponder on the consequences of him… _fraternizing_ with the lesser creatures. To him, humans were mere toys, things to keep celestial beings entertained. Sure, they weren’t his or his siblings’ to play with, exactly. But their Dad had always taught them to share, so where was the harm? He was about to bring up that very fact, when God beat him to the punch. 

_You have corrupted them, Lucifer!_

It must have been a particularly heinous offense for his Father to refer to him as the morning star. Rarely did the Creator refer to His children by their celestial role, a form of detachment from their familial name, which in contrast was always spoken in nurturing terms. It wasn’t a good sign, so Samael did what he did best: try to talk his way out of the preposterous accusations. 

_Oh, come now, Father! We did have a great time, I won’t deny that. But how can I corrupt something so primitive and three dimensional?_

_There is so much you have yet to understand._

Samael narrowed his eyes. _Or, perhaps, You’re jealous because I granted these poor souls the little joy you insist on denying them. Afraid they’ll start worshiping me next, Father?_

God’s fury seemed to temper into cold rage. 

_You have limited understanding of humanity, yet you brazenly aspire to become my equal on Earth? Your pride is only second to your ego, Lucifer._

_Your equal?_ Samael laughed. _I can offer them so much more! I can offer them everything they desire!_

_What do you believe they desire?_

_An existence filled with pleasure, and joy, and carefree fun. Free of all those burdens with which you’ve shackled them!_

_Those burdens, as you call them, make everything else worthwhile._

Samael chuckled with disbelief, but said nothing. 

_You are never to interfere with humanity again, or you will face serious consequences._

That was a warning that Samael was bound to disregard. Although, looking back, it wouldn’t surprise him if God had anticipated as much. 

******** 

The death of a human had never hit him so hard before. The sense of loss had been so overwhelming, he’d felt like someone had taken a hammer to his chest and gone to town. It was so utterly senseless, so bloody unfair, it drove him to rant and rave at the night’s sky in hopes Dear Old Dad would catch a glimpse of his frustration. The worst part was how much he abhorred himself for caring so damn much. _When had these creatures gotten under his skin?_ The night Delilah had been killed he’d mourned her death, sure. But only because he’d felt somewhat responsible for her demise and, if he were to be honest, he’d miss her voice more than her person. The kid could sing like an angel. 

The death of Father Frank on the other hand… 

Lucifer closed his eyes and drowned his woes in the song, deft fingers dancing over the piano keys to the tune of ‘Knocking on Heaven’s Door’. He didn’t want to think. He didn’t want to feel. All he wanted was to pay tribute to the unlikely friendship that had ended as abruptly as it had started. 

When she appeared out of the blue from behind him, he startled. He wasn’t expecting company that night. Especially not of the female kind. Though he suspected her visit fell under the professional umbrella, not so much the social one. 

“Hi.” 

Chloe’s gentle greeting was a bit disconcerting. She had shed her tough-as-nails detective shell and lowered herself beside him on the piano bench looking softer than he’d ever seen her. Those grey-blue eyes searched his face so intensely he felt the urge to shift away from her, whether to allow her more space on the bench, or out of irrational fear, he wasn’t sure. Maybe a little of both. 

“Bit late for a case, isn’t it?” he said, hoping the Detective hadn’t noticed how his eyes had been glistening under the mellow lighting of the penthouse. 

_Bloody human emotions!_

He’d never seen such tenderness on her face. Well, at least not directed at him. The Detective usually reserved her caring side for her little spawn. The fact she was regarding him in a similar manner made him rather uncomfortable. 

“I’m not here for a case,” she said. “I’m here for you.” 

All right. That was more like it. Something was a little off, but attraction was something he understood better than emotion, so he played right into it. His lips curled into a sly grin and his gaze roamed down her frame, then trailed back up to her face as he let out a flirtatious ‘ _oh…_ _really_?’ 

“Yeah,” she replied, unfazed by his coquettish advance. “I thought you could use a friend.” 

Her words felt like a punch to the stomach, causing his smile to fade. It was a visceral reaction to the crumbling of those walls he had taken eons to erect. Bad as Father Frank had cracked his defenses, it was devastating how the detective had just obliterated them altogether. Her concern sounded so genuine, Lucifer was at a complete loss as to what to make of it. This mortal being had just reduced _him_ , the _Devil_ , to a puddle of conflicting emotions, and it was blowing his supernatural mind. 

_What was this human doing to him?_

He inhaled deeply, a clumsy attempt to get some much needed oxygen into his aching lungs, and thought it best to change the subject. 

“Dou you play?” he asked through the best attempt at a smile he could muster. 

She was clearly taken off-guard by the question. “No,” she quickly replied. “No, I don’t.” 

“C’mon!” he nudged her softly. “You must play something.” 

“I—ugh!” she sighed, clearly intimidated by the request, yet giving into his invitation because, he figured, that’s what friends did. “I… Well, let me see. I had three years of lessons, and this is all I remember.” 

Her index finger began pounding on a single key, and Lucifer recognized the tune immediately. The tension that had been building inside his chest began to magically evaporate, and he huffed out a candid chuckle. 

“Surely you must be joking!” he teased. 

He folded his arms and smirked at her for confirmation. Returning his smile, she shook her head, a silent ‘you asked for it’ on her expression. Once again, her finger played the only notes that she’d learned, a bit firmer this time, emboldened by his reaction and urging him to just go with it. Unable to deny her, Lucifer opted to indulge her. 

“Alright,” he sighed. 

His fingers joined hers on the piano and the instrument came to life as the sparkling melody of ‘Heart and Soul’ filled the penthouse. They exchanged a quick glance that made the Devil’s heart swell, his distress set aside to allow the warmth of this new feeling to wash over him. When the Detective picked up his short glass to take a sip of scotch, he lifted his eyebrows in approval, pleased with the way she seemed to feel right at home in is den. 

The impromptu duet soon deteriorated into a playful mashing of keys and laughter. It would’ve been hard for Lucifer to believe just an hour ago his spirit would be feeling this light. Sobering up, he straightened his back and turned to his companion. 

“Thank you,” he said. And he’d never been more sincere about an expression of gratitude. 

She offered him a mild shrug. “What are friends for if not to help with a heavy burden?” 

His brow furrowed while his eyes searched those grey-blue depths with interest. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.” 

“I’m really sorry about Father Frank, Lucifer,” she said quietly. 

When she reached out to touch his hand, he pulled away as if scorched. The avalanche of emotions that followed left him way too vulnerable for his liking. 

“Let’s not dwell on the unfortunate events of today, shall we?” 

His voice had been steady, but he had the feeling she was getting to know him a little too well to be fooled by his cool façade. She nodded in agreement, her kind smile never wavering. 

That night marked a significant shift in their partnership. A heavy load shared, and the erosion of another layer of divinity along the treacherous journey he had unwittingly embarked on. 

**[To Be Continued…]**


	4. Partners

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your kudos and for following this story. Your feedback is always appreciated and a pleasant surprise. Thanks also to **BelenP** for her continued support.

Partners

Chloe fell on the floor, her lower back taking the brunt of the impact. She managed to keep the back of her head from hitting the ground just by an inch. Her eyes began to water, though it had more to do with frustration than with pain. She could feel the stares from everybody around her, some with amusement, others with astonishment, yet others with pity. Hatred and humiliation surged to the surface while she desperately tried to hold on to the last vestiges of composure. Still, there was no way she would let herself break down in front of an audience. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. 

Ryan’s voice rose over the murmurs of surprise and disgust from onlookers. 

“Leave her alone!” her friend told the bully. 

Her attacker’s face twisted into a mocking grin. “Why don’t you make me?” 

Chloe stumbled to her feet, steadying herself and letting her indignation quench her fear. As if in slow motion, Chloe saw the bully use his index finger to twirl the cap around and around, his scornful words seeping through that stupid lopsided grin. She saw Ryan’s hands turn into fists, the curious gazes from all those who watched the scene unfold with morbid curiosity, the oblivious moms who sat on a far bench, too wrapped up in conversation to notice what was happening a few yards away. And then, from the corner of her eye, she became aware of the tall man who just minutes ago had returned her baseball. He appeared to be the only adult witnessing what was happening. She turned her head and their eyes met for a fraction of a second, blazing intensity meeting the coolness of her grey-blue depths. At that very second, her anxiety vanished and was replaced by a thirst for revenge she had never felt before in her short life, wasn’t even sure where it had come from. 

She wasn’t entirely sure at what point she decided to charge against her assailant, or how the fear she’d felt a few seconds ago had turned into the raw desire to punish the boy who so smugly had just made a fool of her. Jaw clenched, she lunged forward and kicked the bully as hard as she could in the groin. 

Her eyes went wide when she saw him tumble to the ground with a howl amidst the roar of laughter from the kids around them. A feeling of pride spread throughout her chest as she picked up her cap and placed it back on her head. Ryan stood beside her, mouth hanging open in shock and a hint of alarm. But Chloe was not afraid. There was a strange sense of security washing over her. Something difficult to describe or even identify. And even if she tried, it would sound like she was making it up. 

The burly boy was struggling to his feet, eyes red with rage. “You stupid little—“ 

“There you are!” 

Whatever may have happened next was brought to a halt by the presence of a cop. The boy swallowed his unspoken threat and sent Chloe a hate-filled glare that spoke louder than words. The crowd was already dispersing by the time John Decker reached his daughter. 

“Are you ready to go, Monkey?” 

Chloe nodded, still watching the bully’s retreat. She’d always been a cautious kid. Not a coward, but smart enough not to antagonize those with a certain reputation. And though she had acted in self-defense, it had been unprecedented for her to be so brazen. She could still sense that comforting presence that had infused her with the confidence to retaliate. It was slowly fading away, just like her adrenaline, leaving a sense of pride and achievement in its wake. Chloe smiled. 

_Bullies were not invincible after all. Who would’ve thought?_

She was pensive most of the way on the ride home. The patrol car’s radio cracked alive with the occasional alert, a familiar tune she had grown up with and learned to find comforting. She still couldn’t believe her actions back in the park. The thrill she’d felt the moment she became aware of her own capability was something she would come to crave in the face of injustice in the coming years. She just didn’t know it at the time. Something had awakened inside her that afternoon, something that would stay with her for the rest of her life. She was feeling light and powerful and… 

“A penny for your thoughts,” her father said. 

Chloe hesitated for a moment. “Do you ever get scared? You know, when you arrest the bad guys?” 

“Sometimes,” John Decker nodded. “Fear keeps you on your toes. It is good to be cautious when you’re a cop. You gotta watch your own back, watch your partner’s back. Trust he’s got yours.” 

The thought hit a certain nerve, and a different type of fear got a hold of Chloe. “Would you risk your own life to save Mike?” she asked with a small voice, referring to her father’s partner. 

“That’s what partner’s do. I’m certain Mike would risk his life to save mine.” 

“How can you be sure of that?” 

John Decker turned his head to meet his daughter’s eyes briefly. “Because he’s my partner.” 

“What if he gets scared? What if he doesn’t have your back?” 

“Why the sudden concern?” her father frowned. “What’s this really about, Monkey?” 

“I don’t want you to get killed,” Chloe mumbled. 

John Decker winced, but immediately turned to her with a reassuring smile. “That’s not gonna happen! I never take unnecessary risks on the job and Mike is a kickass partner, so you got nothing to worry about, alright?” 

Chloe offered her dad a quiet ‘okay’ and turned her head towards the window. The familiar streets of her neighborhood were tinted in pale orange as dusk fell over the city. In the whirlwind of thoughts plaguing the girl’s mind, one tall shadow stood out in the eye of the storm. 

“Daddy, do you believe in guardian angels?” 

************** 

The gunshot echoed like a cannon inside of the hangar. Chloe flinched, then gasped, horrified at the sight of her partner being shot in the stomach at point blank. He placed his hand over the wound and, for a surreal moment she hoped his self-assured claims of immortality would have him smile up at Malcom in that cocky way only he could pull off without coming across as a total jackass. Instead, Lucifer collapsed to the cold concrete floor, shaking and more helpless than she’d ever seen him. An invisible fist squeezed her heart to the point she was having trouble breathing. 

Overwhelmed with impotence, she kept watching as Malcom walked slowly to where Lucifer laid convulsing occasionally from pain and blood loss. The dirty cop squatted beside him and, though his back was to her, she could almost imagine his repulsive smile as he looked down on her dying partner with contempt. She could not make out what he was saying, could barely hear his murmuring voice over the ringing in her ears. He was talking to Lucifer as if he were an old friend about to embark on a trip. At one point he produced something out of his pocket, something small, something that looked like… a coin? 

Whatever it was, Lucifer made a weak attempt to snatch it from him to no avail. Exhausted and defeated, he let his arm drop back down as the pool of his blood gradually spread all around him, draining his life along with it. 

“Don’t worry, you won’t be going alone,” she heard Malcom say as he stood up. “I’ll be sending Decker along right behind you.” 

Still in shock and unable to move, Chloe tried to hold back tears while the man who had just shot her partner in cold blood sing-sung his threats across the hangar. 

“Oh, Chloe! Oh, Decker!” 

At that point she only hoped Trixie had found a safe place to hide. Knowing her daughter, Malcom would have to turn the hangar upside down to find her, which brought her a small sense of comfort and gave her some time to come up with a plan. Chloe stood her ground, petrified as Malcom’s voice kept getting closer and closer. From her vantage point, she could see Lucifer’s body, not quite lifeless yet, but close. She held back a sob. All she wanted was to go to him, offer him comfort on those last fleeting moments, hold his hand and tell him he was not alone. That she was there with him. She only hoped he could at least sense her presence. 

_I’m here. I’m here. You are not alone._

It was a desperate prayer she knew Lucifer would never hear. He seemed to be wrapped in a prayer of his own. Chloe strained to listen to his words. Heartbroken and terrified, she managed to make out only a few of them over Malcom’s approaching footsteps and mocking chants. 

_Plan... Dad... Favor... Son... Ask…_

A second later Lucifer’s body ceased to move. He was no longer convulsing, or trembling. He was no longer breathing. 

He was dead. 

Chloe felt her eyes well with tears as a profound hollowness descended upon her. But she pushed those feelings aside, blinked away the moistness and summoned up enough presence of mind to try to beat the murderer at his own game. She needed to remain strong for Trixie. For Lucifer. His death wouldn’t be in vain. She’d make sure of that. She would make Malcom pay if it was the last thing she did. 

Focusing on her stalker’s movements, she shifted with utmost stealth between two rows of crates along a corridor of metal shelving. Malcom walked down the adjacent aisle, unaware of his prey’s position just on the other side. Had he decided to squeeze through the crates, he would’ve found her. Had she made the slightest noise, he would’ve heard her. But Chloe couldn’t dwell on ifs and maybes. She had to act fast. Peeking through the boxes, she saw her gun just a few feet from Lucifer’s inert body. Another pang of grief struck her, and she had to make a conscious effort to drown it. If she could only make a dash for her gun and level the playing field, Trixie’s and her chances of getting out of there alive would increase exponentially. 

Malcom walked around the last row of crates and Chloe, sensing the inevitability of her being discovered, saw a slim window of opportunity to make a run for it. It was a one in a million chance, but she had to take it. She knew the moment she left the safety of the tall crates her cover would be blown, and Malcom would have a clear shot. Unable to see any other way out, she lunged forward, heart racing a mile a minute, and ran towards the gun. She saw Malcom from the corner of her eye aiming his semi-automatic at her, and she braced herself for the impact of the bullet. 

_Shit!_ _She would never make it!_

And just as she thought her luck had ran out, a shadow appeared from out of nowhere and Malcom was thrown against the crates that had served as her cover just moments before, granting her the crucial second she needed to reach her glock. 

Through her shock, she saw Lucifer standing before Malcom as the dirty cop raised his gun with the intent to shoot him. Chloe’s finger pulled on the trigger without hesitation, and her target was hit four times on the chest, causing him to stumble backwards and drop to the ground near the pile of crates. Lucifer turned around to face her, their gaze crossing for a brief moment of reckoning. But her partner’s focus turned back to the dying man at his feet. A man who was looking up at the tall figure as if he were death itself. His glassy eyes registered surprise and fear, and reflected the astonishment Chloe was feeling herself. There was a brief exchange between the two men, something she wasn’t privy to and wasn’t sure she wanted to be. At that point, however, her concern for Trixie overshadowed everything else. 

“Trixie!” she called. “Come out, honey!” 

A small voice came from a remote corner of the hangar. “Mommy, is it over?” 

“Yeah, baby. It’s over. C’mere!” 

The girl ran to her mother’s arms and buried her face in the crook of her neck. Relief lifted off Chloe’s body in one swift rush, as if a huge weight had been suddenly lifted. She hugged her daughter tightly, never wanting to let her go. 

“I’m so happy you’re okay!” she crooned near her ear. 

Lucifer walked over to them, his demeanor cool as usual, which was odd considering his shirt was still soaked with his own blood. “Excuse me if I don’t join the group hug.” 

Chloe saw Trixie looking up at Lucifer with open fascination. It was impossible to make sense of what had just happened. Besides, Chloe was way too exhausted and way too confused to discuss the gruesome details of the shooting in front of the child. Her own shock wasn’t letting her think straight either. She was just beyond relieved to have her daughter by her side. As to her partner, she was grappling to come to terms with the reality of what she had just witnessed. 

“I thought he’d killed you,” she choked out, fighting to hold back tears. 

“Oh, he did, yes,” Lucifer smiled. Taking notice of the child and understanding it wasn’t the time nor the place for a lengthy discussion, he simply added, “I got better.” 

Chloe understood and appreciated his consideration. Still, her eyes narrowed suspiciously, not buying into his convenient excuse to avoid giving her a much needed explanation. “You promised you’d let me go alone,” she berated, although she found it impossible to keep a hint of gratitude out of her voice. 

“True,” he conceded. “But I didn’t say anything about following.” 

A subtle change in his expression lead Chloe to believe something wasn’t quite right. His eyes belied something she’d never seen in them before, and when his smile faded she became concerned. 

“What’s wrong?” 

The question seemed to hit Lucifer squarely in the gut, but he recovered almost instantly, and Chloe was left to believe she might have imagined his reaction. Reluctant to answer, Lucifer deflected the issue by dropping his gaze to the child. “Isn’t it past her bedtime?” 

Neither of them were willing to delve into the grisly events that had left Malcom dead on the cold floor of the hangar. Following protocol was more pressing, and the place was soon bathed in red and blue lights from at least a dozen patrol cars. Penelope arrived to pick up Trixie almost at the same time as the police, concern etched all over her face. Chloe tried to reassure her, but her mother eventually left with the child and over a dozen unanswered questions while Chloe stayed behind to try to provide a semi-coherent statement as to what had happened in the hangar that night. Once done failing to afford the department with all the answers they were seeking, she walked over to where Lucifer was vehemently refusing to receive treatment for the gunshot wound. 

“Ah, detective!” he called as he saw her approach. “Are we finally done here? I got a penthouse in serious need of housekeeping.” 

The medics sent her a questioning glance, obviously perplexed by the sight of the blood soaked shirt her partner was sporting, and the clear burn mark of a bullet on the fabric, right over his stomach. At a loss for an explanation or, at the very least, a reasonable answer, Chloe dismissed them with a ‘thank you’ and an apologetic smile. 

“You look exhausted,” she told Lucifer once they were out of earshot. “Go home. I’ll call you in the morning.” 

“You don’t look that perky yourself, detective.” 

“I’m heading home too,” she nodded. “We’re done here.” 

He was about to walk away when Chloe grabbed him by the sleeve to halt him. She had so many questions, it was impossible to voice just one. Fatigue and bewilderment had her mind reeling, making it impossible for her to put her jumbling thoughts into solid words. She curled her fingers around the small vial in her pocket containing the blood sample she had taken from the puddle of his blood drying up on the floor of the hangar. 

Lucifer cocked an eyebrow, prompting her to speak, but she desisted in her effort. Chloe let go of his sleeve, mouthing a barely audible ‘good night’ filled with unspoken gratitude. He offered her a smile in return, letting her know he’d received the message loud and clear. She watched him get into his Corvette and drive away, the enigma of his identity growing stronger as he disappeared into the night. 

Perhaps one day he would trust her enough to tell her the truth. For now, she could always turn to the solid evidence she had gathered. Her fingers ran over the tiny test tube, caressing its contour as some priced possession. She was determined to find out who Lucifer Morningstar really was. 

For now, though, she would sleep soundly, basking in the fact that he was, after all, a great partner. 

**[To Be Continued…]**

__


	5. Star-crossed

Dante’s account of Hell was only but a man’s misconception of a realm no human could conceivably imagine. Not to an accurate degree, anyway. Though Lucifer’s chance encounter with _Il Sommo Poeta_ in the early 1300s did have an impact in his Divine Comedy, what the author took from the candid confession was a far cry from reality. Alas, neither Latin nor Italian can convey the vortex of despair that crushes a soul as it’s forever trapped in the dominion of eternal damnation. Perhaps its major flaw was the preposterous idea that one could ever escape. While technically not an impossible task, Lucifer had never witnessed such a feat. He had told Dante as much. After all, the poet hadn’t pulled the line “abandon all hope, ye who enter here” out of his ass. But, apart from that statement, the work was plagued with misunderstandings. For instance, “the sting of a guilty conscience” was not a reference to souls being stung by swarms of wasps and hornets. That, too, had been lost in translation. In fact, the most factual part of the poem was describing the arrival in Hell not merely as a form of divine revenge, but as the fulfillment of a destiny freely chosen by each soul during the course of their life. Unrepentant, they would shamelessly try to justify their sins rather than own up to them. 

And yet, out of all of the wild portrayals put forth by Dante’s Inferno, it was his depiction of Satan which had angered Lucifer the most. 

_A furry beast with three soul devouring heads, and stuck waist-deep in icy sludge? Utter bollocks!_

To be fair, the horror of seeing the Devil’s true face might have bled into the poet’s work. It was rather unfortunate. But how else could have Lucifer persuaded this human not to discard what he was saying as the ramblings of some deranged lunatic? 

It didn’t matter in the end. The fool got most of it wrong. Brilliant work of fiction, though. 

As it was, Lucifer had stopped finding Hell fascinating _eons_ ago. Well, in all honesty, fascination was never a precise word to describe what he’d felt after the Grand Fall. Curiosity, maybe. Expectation, for sure. A sense of purpose once it became clear he was second-to-none at punishing the wicked. 

It had been a lonely existence at first, his only company the pathetic souls who had been condemned to a torturous afterlife of punishment and misery. As to those who had fallen from the heavens along with him, they’d become nothing more than empty shells, a mere casing of their former selves. They spent eternity meandering the shadowy corridors of Hell without any aim or purpose. 

Useless ghosts. 

That all changed with the arrival of the Lilim. As the workload increased, so did Lucifer’s need to delegate certain tasks. And, what better way to do that than to create an army of vicious demons to do his bidding. These creatures were indebted to him until the end of days, and were as ruthless as any creation Hell had ever witnessed. One of them, a feisty female by the name of Mazikeen, became his clear favorite early on. She had an uncanny ability to find the utmost hidden weaknesses, which she would use in the harshest of ways against her miserable victims. 

Her servitude eventually evolved into awareness, then into familiarity, then into friendship, and even beyond that. She had accompanied Lucifer on countless short escapades to Earth, where they had abandoned themselves to the physical urges exclusive to that plane. It was perhaps the only joy she got out of those visits, given the deep contempt she felt for humankind as a whole. 

The hefty doses of jealousy that radiated from those who inhabited the underworld were no secret, and Maze would savor every second of sweet scorn as she basked in the certainty that she was special, the Dark Lord’s favorite, much to her kind’s chagrin. Such privilege came at a heavy price, and she had learned to watch her back (and Lucifer’s) at all times. Betrayal, after all, was served cold in the land of fire and brimstone. No creature there could ever be trusted. Not that they would dare antagonize a celestial being—especially _that_ particular celestial being. The level of fear the Devil inspired by reputation alone was enough to make even the cruelest of demons cower in fear. But, in Maze’s experience, one could never be too careful. 

She had looked up to her master for millennia. Lucifer had taken her under his wing, had taught her the sacred skills and ancient fighting techniques angels had used in the Silver City. Not surprisingly, revealing such secrets to a lowly demon had incurred God’s wrath, and Earth had suffered the consequences in the form of a devastating flood. Yet, those with the wisdom to step back and see the whole picture recognized it as just another one of Lucifer’s ploys to get his Father’s attention. But his motives were inconsequential to Maze. She was forever beholden to him regardless. In turn, she had become his most valued pupil, not just meeting, but exceeding every expectation. 

Though psychological torture was the most fun, there was never a shortage of physical pain to be inflicted. It was all a part of the twisted game of anticipation, for it was one’s own imagination that which could play the nastiest tricks on the broken mind. Perpetual screams of pain and horror travelled down the ashen galleries. The stench of blood, and guts, and burnt flesh permeated the air, thick with the anguish and desolation of thousands who had lost all hope. 

Lucifer stood in the throne room, his awareness heightened with a strange sense of foreboding. He heard the sheathing of a knife behind him, the satisfaction of a job well done echoing inside the ancient chamber. The scent of pain lingered in the air, and his lips curled upwards. 

“Saved the best for last.” He was studying the intricate carvings that framed his throne. Humans could do such wonderful work under extreme duress, he thought as he ran his long fingers over the ridges that made up the mane of a lion’s head at the curve of the armrest. 

“I appreciate the gift, my Lord.” Maze’s smile was slick. “Hearing child molesters scream never gets old!” 

Lucifer offered her a vague shake of the head, not really in the mood for company. Something was… _off_. Out of place. It was rippling through him in the same way elastic energy alerts animals to flee prior to an earthquake. That intangible feeling was making him restless and annoyed him to high Heaven. He had tried to distance himself from the sensation, pouring his focus into the torment of dozens of unsuspecting souls who had never experienced the Devil’s tactics first hand. But the more he tried to ignore it, the heavier the burden seemed to grow. While the feeling wasn’t entirely unpleasant, it was impossible to shake off. 

His wings twitched involuntarily once again, and he frowned. The faint burning was getting in the way of his concentration, inexplicably intensifying with every step he took. It wasn’t unbearable. It wasn’t even pain. It was something he had never felt before. He unfurled them in an attempt to jiggle the sting away, to no avail. The damned things seemed to hum, or vibrate or… 

“Lucifer?” 

The tightness in Mazikeen’s voice made him turn around. 

Only when he saw the shock on his demon’s face did he crane his neck to try and catch a glimpse at the source of her astonishment. Sprawled outwards, the massive wings glinted with a divine light sparkling all over the dark, leathery surface. 

“Bloody hell!” he growled. “What the…?” 

An invisible force swept over Lucifer like a tsunami, knocking the wind out of him. His knees buckled and he fell to the ground with a loud groan. Jaw clenched to a grind, he was taken over by an onslaught of emotion like he’d never felt before, an experience so foreign and intense it left the Devil gasping. 

Maze rushed to kneel beside him, her stoic face replaced by momentary panic. 

It was over as fast as it had begun. Embarrassed by such moment of weakness, Lucifer snarled a blasphemous curse. He blinked a couple of times to try and clear his mind. Maze remained still, cautious not to incur her master’s wrath. Vulnerability wasn’t looked upon kindly in their realm. Despite her better judgement, she couldn’t help but ask. 

“What the hell just happened to you?” 

Lucifer regarded her for an endless moment, stunned. Then, crawling back into his Lord of Hell skin, he raised to his feet, eyes ablaze. 

“Lucifer!” she demanded. 

But all Lucifer could do was shake his head slowly from side to side, his scowling gaze fixed on an indefinite spot somewhere along the black tunnel outside the throne room. 

“I don’t…” he breathed out. “I don’t know.” 

Maze followed his gaze. All she could see was darkness. 

************** 

Moments later, on a parallel realm, a pair of blue eyes looked down at the woozy infant with unconditional, fatherly love. 

“Hello, Chloe Jane,” John Decker cooed through a watery smile. “I’m your dad.” 

************* 

_A few Earth years later…_

The doors of the elevator swished open slicing through the soft ambiance music that had worked such wonders on his previous conquests. Lucifer’s cunning smile widened. 

“Uhh… hello!” The detective’s cautious voice travelled all the way from the living area of the penthouse and into the semi-darkness of the bedroom—the dimness of the place a twin ploy to lure her into his trap. “Ah, Lucifer!” 

Lucifer hastened to shed what was left of his expensive designer attire. “Will be out in a moment. Just getting ready.” 

“Okay.” An insinuation of uncertainty tainted her voice. “Did you do what I told you to do and call Carver about the ‘Player’s Club’? 

But the insignificant details of their current sting op was the farthest thing from Lucifer’s mind. “Pour yourself a drink, Detective,” he sing-sung with levity. 

“No!” she declared, her voice stern. “No! No more drinks. No more blurred lines. No more breaking into my house, or trying to sleep with me. Look, this is a _professional_ relationship, I am a police officer and you—” Chloe turned around only to come face to face with a very blasé, very naked Lucifer, who proudly stood before her as the most coveted prize in the next sex Olympics. Her jaw dropped, and her treacherous gaze lingered for a second too long over forbidden territory, before trailing up to his face. Mouth still agape, she struggled to compose herself before adding, “…are naked!” 

Cheeks glowing a beet shade of red, Chloe turned her back to him and seemed to want to curl into herself, her desire to have the earth swallow her coming across loud and clear. Lucifer wasn’t sure whether the little chuckle that escaped her lips was a product of her discomfort or, like so many other oddities about this particular human, it was because she found his naked form humorous. If the latter happened to be the case, it would certainly be a first. His body was a perfect aphrodisiac on women and men alike, drawing out the most inner desires from even the demurest of individuals. Strangely, the detective was trampling all over his innate ability to turn on anything with a pulse. 

On the other hand, the scent of her arousal was unmistakable, and his senses had never failed him before. 

Strange. 

The woman was a complete enigma. 

Not one to give up easily, Lucifer refused to be deterred by her reaction. “Well speaking of my surprise visit yesterday, I decided turnabout is fair play. You know, tit-for-tat sort of thing.” 

“This is beyond inappropriate,” she berated. 

“And brave, wouldn’t you say?” he countered. “Number three on the ‘CKC’ list: ‘take risks’.” 

Chloe rushed to grab the discarded towel from his earlier shower from the backrest of the sofa. A frown of contempt creased her brow as she sent him a sidelong glance. He noticed her hesitation, but couldn’t decipher if it was a final attempt at lust suppression, or she had genuinely taken umbrage at his state of undress. 

_Goodness me!_ _Was she even human?_

The little gasp that escaped her lips as she handed him the towel gave him the answer. The scent of pheromones coursing through her bloodstream was intoxicating. It made the Devil salivate, and his grin turned wicked. 

_So, he_ had _awakened her sexual apetite after all…_

The realization sent his own arousal into overdrive, fact that didn’t go amiss by her. 

“Okay,” she breathed out, sensing the situation spiraling out of control. “Just, Lucifer, put some freakin’ clothes on!” 

Baffled by her superhuman restraint, he cocked his head with a furrowed brow. “All right,” he conceded. “But, seriously Darling, are you well? The berries are ripe and ready to be harvested!” Okay, not the most contemporary of expressions, but it was hard to find good sexual innuendos in modern vernacular. “I mean, look at me!” Lucifer began doing a three-sixty on the spot, arms open to better exhibit every inch of his lean, well defined physique. He turned slowly, making sure she got a good look at what she was willing to pass up. “Now, you can’t argue with that, can you?” 

When he faced her again, her expression had shifted. It no longer reflected annoyance or embarrassment, but something vastly different and almost impossible for Lucifer to identify. Was it… _concern_? It took him a few seconds to catch on to the change in mood. By the time he did, it was already too late. She had obviously seen the scars and, unlike so many others who regarded them with morbid curiosity, the detective appeared unsettled _._

“W-what happened t-to…” She began approaching slowly. The previous moment of lust vanished in the gray-blue depths of her gaze. “My God! Did—” 

“Oh, ooh! Well, yeah, I suppose it is His fault.” 

Lucifer huffed out a tight little scoff void of humor. How odd. His scars had begun to tingle, which seemed to happen every time the detective was around except, at the moment, the intensity appeared to go in crescendo. 

“Whose fault?” 

“My Father,” he stated, already dreading the conversation that was brewing. His failed attempt at a smile faded into a mild scowl. 

The detective looked shocked. “Your dad did that to you?” 

_Of course she wouldn’t get it. How could she? She was just human, after all._

“No. No, that’s where I cut my wings off,” he explained, his temperance gradually slipping. 

His entire upper back was humming, the sensation escalating with each passing second. Had his wings not been amputated, they’d be in full display. It would’ve been an automatic reaction to an external stimulus, like a sneeze, or a giggle, or an orgasm. 

A little huff of skepticism pushed past Chloe’s lips, more sardonic than mocking. “What?” 

“Well I didn’t. Maze did. I told her to.” 

At this point, the conversation was rubbing Lucifer up the wrong way, and his back… 

_Bloody hell! It was a fire!_

Except, it wasn’t really discomfort. It was as if his chest was being ignited with a divine flame that stemmed deep within his soul and spread outward, finding his scars a convenient conduit. It was powerful, and heavenly, and it scared the shit out of the Devil. 

But Chloe was oblivious to his occult struggle, and her inner cop kept pushing forward, unabashed. “No, seriously,” she insisted reaching for his upper arm in a gentle attempt to catch another glimpse at his back. Her fingers grazed his skin along the way, burning a delicious path towards the throbbing scars, making his chest swell with emotions he was unprepared to handle. “What is th—“ 

She was a fraction of an inch away from touching the mangled tissue when Lucifer swiveled around brusquely, grabbing her wrist a bit too tightly for comfort. His heart was beating a mile a minute, as the phantom presence of his long-gone wings became almost unbearable. 

_How was that even possible?_

It took over a year after Maze had severed them for him to stop feeling their weight at his back. There had been the occasional vibration at his shoulder blades, sure, but nothing as brutally real as to what he was enduring at the moment. But even worse was the divine yearning washing over him. 

Lucifer swallowed hard. It felt like he was falling all over again. 

The tension between them eased the moment Lucifer detected fear in Chloe’s eyes. He hadn’t meant to scare her. He immediately loosened his grip on her wrist, and drowned his bafflement in a remote corner of his brain. His gaze softened over her features, a silent plea buried beneath the dark chocolate pools of his irises. 

“Don’t. Please,” he told her quietly. 

It was a desperate plea. A prayer wrapped in a simple request. 

All cockiness vanished, he stood before her more naked than before. 

“Okay,” she breathed out with a nod. 

It was evident he had freaked her out, and he inwardly chastised himself for losing his decorum. Retreat was the only real option, so he let go of her wrist and made a dash for the bedroom hoping she hadn’t noticed how his entire body was shaking. “I should get dressed, otherwise we’ll miss the party,” he told her. His voice had trembled, making him loathe the troubling feeling that had crash landed upon him. 

“So you did make the call,” Chloe said, clearly brushing the awkwardness aside for both their sakes. 

“Yes!” he replied, relieved with the change in subject. “Yes, yes, yes. Party’s at LUX. It turns out the words ‘open bar’ are, indeed, effective so…” 

He slipped into the first shirt he found while he made small talk with the detective trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. Once in the sanctuary of his bedroom, he let out a shuddery breath and leaned his back against the stone wall. The cold, rugged rock felt soothing against his searing scars. His eyes fluttered shut and his head tilted upwards. He was supposed to be looking for something the detective could wear to the bloody party, but his legs could barely hold his weight. 

He hadn’t lied to Maze when he’d told her that there was something about this human that puzzled him, but he hadn’t told her the whole truth either. She was not only affecting him on a psychological level, but a physical one as well. Lucifer was determined to get to the bottom of it even if it took the rest of his immortal life to do so. 

Unbeknownst to him, the seed of a divine partnership had already been planted, and was already taking root. 

[To Be Continued…] 

****


	6. Dear Diary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one turned out to be a little longer than usual, mostly due to its  
>  nature. I hope you guys enjoy it. Thank you so much to those who have been  
>  leaving comments and feedback. Your words are really encouraging and, quite  
>  often, the fuel one needs to keep on writing.
> 
>  
> 
> A very special thank you also goes out to BelenP for her input and insights  
>  on the story. And for catching a couple of blunders that I had totally  
>  missed. Girl, you rock as a beta!

Dear Diary

6 of november of 1988 

dear dairy, 

my name is Chloe Jane Decker. I got you for my birthday. I just turned 6 years old. mommy says she had a dairy just like this one when she was litle. she rote all her thots and secrets in it. I gues I’ll do the same. daddy is calling me. I have to go. see you soon. 

love, 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

7 of november of 1988 

dear dairy, 

my odition this morning was really terrible. the mean lady said I dont smile enouf. I didnt like the sereal they made me try. it looked like fruit Loops but it tasted like feet. it was also really hot at the studio and the woman that did my hair pulled it so hard I almost cried. I dont want mommy to be sad if I dont get the part but I really really really hated that place. 

love, 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

8 of novermber 1988 

dear dairy, 

I didnt get the part. :( they told mommy over the fone that I was too stif. I dont know what that means. I will try to do beter next time. daddy made my favorite sandwich and then took me for ice cream. it made me feel a litle beter. the man at the ice cream place put three cherries on my ice cream. I dont like cherries but they looked pretty. 

love, 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

10 of june of 1988 

dear diary, 

I kicked a mean boy in the no no touch touch square today at the park. he took my blue Lakers cap and wouldnt give it back. I have always been really scared of him. Ryan too and all other kids too. I dont know why I did what I did today but it felt great. I dont think he’ll ever mess with me again. Ha ha! I am INVENCIBLE! :) 

love, 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

February 20, 1995 

Dear Diary, 

I was cleaning my room and just found you hidden amongst some of my old books from when I was little. I’m sorry I haven’t been keeping up with the writing. I will try to write more often from now on. I just need somebody to talk to. A friend. I don’t go to regular school, so I don’t have that many friends. There is another kid on set who gets tutored with me, but she is such a diva we have nothing in common. She’s just 13 like me, but looks more like an 18 year old. She even has a boyfriend. I’d like to have a boyfriend one day. Or at least a close friend. I guess I feel lonely. It sucks that Ryan moved to Omaha. He was dorky, but we had some fun times at the park. I miss him. 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

March 18, 1996 

Dear Diary, 

It has been over a year since I wrote anything here. I guess I’m the worst at keeping a journal. Anyway, OTH was just cancelled, so I guess I’m out of a job. Is it bad that I don’t feel sad about it? I feel kind of relieved, not that I’d ever tell mom that. She already has three auditions lined up for me before the end of the week. What a drag! On the plus side, a girl my age just moved next door. Her name is Carmen. Her family is half Mexican, half Cuban. She’s really nice. Dad invited our new neighbors over for a BBQ and Carmen and I talked all afternoon. She even taught me some Spanish! She was a little star struck at first, and wanted to know everything about OTH and my co-stars. She was so curious about it! But in a nice way, not in a creepy way. I don’t know how to describe it. Her little brother hung out with us too. She thinks he’s kind of a pest. I like him. He’s cute. I wish I had a brother. Carmen will be going to Westley High as soon as school starts. She’s so lucky! It is nice to have a friend to talk to. 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

March 25, 1996 

Dear Diary, 

I didn’t get any of the parts I auditioned for. Casting directors can be so brutal at times. Sorry if my hips are too narrow or my breasts are not big enough for your stupid teen drama! I’m only 14 for god’s sake! The worst part is how they point all that out to my mother while I stand there beside them, like a piece of meat, or a rag to be discarded. I might not be the dashing babe they are looking for, but would it kill them to save the walk of shame for after I have left the room? Thank you! 

Ugh! I hate show business! 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

May 10, 1996 

Dear Diary, 

Daddy invited Carmen and me to the new burger joint in West Hollywood and we ran into some of Carmen’s friends from school. They are all very nice. Well, for the most part. There was this one guy, Jackson, who kept trying to be funny all evening and I turned out to be the butt of all of his jokes. I ignored him. Carmen says it’s because he likes me, but I don’t think so. He was a jerk to me the entire time. Daddy let me go with them for milkshakes after dinner. It was such a blast! For the first time in my life, I feel like I belong. 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

July 22, 1996 

Carmen and I went to watch ‘Independence Day’ last night. Will Smith is such a hottie. We ran into Jackson and a couple of other kids from their school at the mall and hung out in the Chili’s until they kicked us out (because they were closing, not because we were hooligans). I got home past curfew and now I’m grounded. 

It was so worth it! :p 

**= 666 =**

November 7, 1996 

Jackson gave me a music compilation of my favorite songs for my birthday. What a cool gift! I’ve been listening to it all evening. I love the Bangles! ‘Eternal Flame’ has to be the most romantic song ever! I was so wrong about him. He is a great guy. Plus, I love his dark, sultry eyes. And his smile. And the way he moves. Okay, I think I might like him. I mean, as more than a friend. Oh, who am I kidding! He is dreamy!!! :) :) :) 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

November 10, 1996 

Dear Diary, 

Jackson and I kissed. It just happened earlier today. I don’t know how I feel about it. It was nice, I guess. A little awkward, but kind of sweet. I always thought kissing on the lips would feel different. Like fireworks, I guess. Maybe next time it will be more like that. 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

December 20, 1996 

I don’t care what people say, sex sucks. Jackson wanted to make everything perfect. He took me to dinner, and gave me the most beautiful bouquet of red roses. He can be a real gentleman when he wants to. He even lit up candles all over his parents’ guest house. His parents are out of town. Thank God. I don’t think I could’ve gone through with it knowing that his parents were in the main house at the time. It was bad enough we had to sneak around his sister. As far as the act itself goes… Nothing like what I had expected at all! It was weird, and even though I was ready to take that step with him, I don’t think we did it right. Sex is supposed to feel amazing. It didn’t. :( 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

April 16, 1997 

I broke up with Jackson. I just couldn’t deal with his constant hovering 24/7. I needed some space to breathe and not feel like we are attached by the hip. I needed to feel like myself again. I never meant to hurt him. I feel awful about it. I hope he can forgive me one day. 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

June 10, 1998 

Dear Diary, 

Sorry for being away for so long. I didn’t mean to neglect you. I just feel kind of, well, I don’t know how to describe it. You know when life moves past you and you feel stuck in the same spot? Something like that. I guess I needed somebody to talk to. I just don’t think anybody would understand. 

Tonight Carmen is going to her prom. She looked so beautiful in her navy blue gown, and Alex gave her such a gorgeous corsage to go with it! Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to go to a regular high school, with its football games and other social events. Carmen laughs when I tell her these things. She says she wishes she could go to the Golden Globes and hang out with Jonathan Taylor Thomas and Joshua Jackson. Truth be told, I have barely exchanged a couple of words with those two. Red carpet events are such a drag! I always come across as a snob. In reality I’m just an introvert who hates the spotlight. Not that the paparazzi have a clue what it is like to be a child actor. 

I wish I could trade lives with Carmen for just one evening and go to her prom. That’d be nice. 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

June 23, 1998 

Dear Diary, 

I have just been cast in a teen film with some serious budget behind it. That’s great news, I guess. On a not so positive note, I feel like Carmen and I are drifting apart. She’s going away to camp this summer, plus she just found out she got into Stanford! I’m so damn proud of her! :) But we don’t hang out as often as we used to. I miss her. 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

August 24, 1998 

Dear Diary, 

Once again I turn to you for comfort. Today I kissed a boy on screen for the first time. It was nothing like when Jackson and I kissed. There were two spotlights above us and one of those reflective panels they use for lighting purposes. The sound guy kept complaining about the feedback of the mic clipped onto my bikini top, and the director was in a really sour mood today. At least Zack had done several kiss scenes before. He tried to put me at ease, but it didn’t really work. On the first take I looked so stiff my acting coach suggested I took something to relax. I turned it down. I’ve seen what those pills have done to others and I refuse to not be in control during the scene. After twelve takes they finally called it a wrap. I’ve never been more relieved to leave a set in my entire life. 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

August 30, 1998 

Dear Diary, 

Tomorrow I have to shoot a topless scene. I really don’t want to do it. We only realized there was going to be nudity after the contract was signed, and by then it was too late to back out. The director has assured me that only a skeleton crew will be there filming the scene, but I feel really anxious about it. I haven’t told Carmen. I really haven’t told any of my friends. It is so humiliating! 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

June 30, 1999 

Dear Diary, 

I just came back from my father’s funeral. I feel so empty. I took my anger and my grief out on this photographer who crashed the ceremony. How dare he? Have people no decency? I wanted to pour my soul into these pages, but the truth is I’m too exhausted and too numb to identify, let alone put into words, what I’m feeling right now. 

I guess I will try again some other time. 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

Christmas Eve, 2009 

Dear Diary, 

So much has happened since I last wrote in here! It was such a surprise to find you while moving to our new place! Let me bring you up to date. I quit showbiz and decided to follow in dad’s footsteps so, much to my mother’s chagrin, I joined the police. It was the best way I could find to honor my dad. I hope he’s proud of me, wherever he is. I miss you, dad!! 

I’ve been a proud officer at the LAPD for the past two years. It was there where I met Dan, the sweetest man I have ever come across, and handsome to boot! We got married five months ago. It was a small ceremony with just the two of us. Neither of us felt like a big celebration. Mom still resents me for that. I’m now on maternity leave after having the most beautiful baby girl in the world. She was born December 4th. Her name is Beatrice. I really couldn’t be happier. 

Mom is on her way to help me out with dinner. Dan’s mom is also coming later. She makes the most delicious pecan pie I’ve ever tasted. Dan and his dad went out to do some last minute shopping (because leaving things for the last minute is my husband’s specialty. He likes to improvise, that one). 

Motherhood is tougher than I could have ever imagined. I’m perpetually exhausted. I’m going to try to catch some shuteye before they get here now that Trixie is asleep. 

It was nice ‘talking’ to you again. I guess I will try to be a little more consistent with my journaling from now on. 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

November 2, 2010 

Dear Diary, 

Trixie took her first steps today! Miss Marie at the daycare center said that she just grabbed the curtains, pulled herself up and wobbled her way to the door. I’m so bummed I missed it! There was this drug bust in Soho that called for all units to the area. The good news is that we confiscated over eighty pounds of cocaine. The bad news: I feel like I’m missing out on my child’s life. 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

February 9, 2011 

Dear Diary, 

Dan’s stuck at work today, so Trix and I are having dinner alone. Again! I understand Dan is a detective and his job is important. I’m trying to be supportive. I really am. But our family is important too, isn’t it? I’m trying to make my daughter’s childhood special, just like daddy did when I was her age. We had these awesome traditions I will always remember him for, like his special sandwiches. Gosh! I need to make those more often. Taco Tuesday is a good start, I guess. 

On a side note, I’ve been having this weird feeling all day. I don’t know how to describe it. And I keep having these flashbacks to a day in the park when I was little. I have no idea what it means, but the image keeps popping into my head. I barely recall what happened exactly. A bully had taken my blue Laker’s cap, I believe. Now that image keeps following me around. I don’t know why. I’ve been trying to make an effort to remember that day, in case it means something, but all I can come up with is the bully, my friend (whose name I can’t recall right now), a baseball cap and a crowd of kids. There were a bunch of moms chatting and… a tall man watching, I think? God, why is this bothering me so much? Am I going crazy? 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

January 2, 2012 

Trixie is going to daycare full time from now on. I don’t want mom to give up attending conventions because of me or Trixie. It is not fair to her. It’s just… Trixie is so little still! Not that that stopped her from taking a toy from another girl the moment she set foot on the place, but still. My baby! :( 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

April 1, 2012 

Dear Diary, 

I made detective! And no, it’s not an April Fools day joke. I made it!! 

Dan and I are going out tonight to celebrate. Mom is staying with Trixie, who got in trouble in school for drawing on the wall with markers. What can I say? My kid is an artist! 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

July 18, 2012 

Dear Diary, 

How come rookie detectives get all the crappy cases? It sucks! I’m going to ask the department for additional responsibilities. If I have to deal with one more meaningless prostitution case, I think I might scream. 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

March 3, 2013 

Okay, be careful what you wish for, I guess. I have been so busy at work I barely have time for anything else in my life. Trixie being the one exception. Board game night on Thursdays is sacred. Parcheesi has become her passion. We paint our nails and faces, and eat way too much junk. Trix has a blast! Dan is stuck at work and can’t make it tonight. His loss! 

I don’t want to make it a habit of writing about work on this journal, but something about a case I’m working on doesn’t add up. I’ll keep you posted. 

**= 666 =**

October 13, 2013 

Dear Diary, 

The trail has gone cold on a case I’ve been working on for months. If I didn’t know any better I’d say somebody inside the department is trying to derail me. 

Trixie want’s to dress up as princess Merida for Halloween. She’s into bows and arrows. She also wants me to dye her hair red. A wig will have to do. 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

February 23, 2014 

Dear Diary, 

It’s official. I suck at keeping a journal. I just thought maybe brainstorming on paper might help me figure out why Malcom has stopped sharing information with me on the Nicholas Audi case. Have I done something wrong? Have I breached protocol? Or is it something else? 

Damn it! I was sure the suspect we arrested last week would flip on Audi! Now I’m shit out of luck and without any solid leads! What am I missing?? 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

May 17, 2014 

Dear Diary, 

Case got hot again. I think I’m onto something BIG! Nobody at the department takes me seriously, they think I’m overreaching. But the evidence proves otherwise. You know when your gut keeps telling you something is there? My dad always said I should follow my instincts. I’m going to take his advice. That would make him proud. 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

December 1, 2014 

Dear Diary, 

It has been a rough couple of weeks. Ever since the fiasco in Palmetto St. I know I was advised to drop the case, but I was convinced something big was going down that night. I didn’t trust Malcom. Maybe I shouldn’t have followed him there. Nothing makes sense. 

Malcom is in a coma. I’ve been shunned by everyone for questioning his integrity. Dan is not taking sides. 

I’ve never felt so alone. 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

September 5, 2015 

Dear Diary, 

This past year has been the roughest of my entire life. Perhaps I should’ve turned to you more often. The truth is I have been suppressing whatever it is I feel and pouring all my focus into my work. Even if all I’ve been getting lately are meaningless cases. I refuse to let them get to me. They’re trying to drive me out. I know it. They won’t succeed. Not even Dan is standing up for me. That probably hurts the most. 

So, as you can see, my career is stagnant and my marriage is going down the toilet. 

I’ve just moved to mom’s with Trixie. Dan and I have decided to spend some time apart. Things haven’t been working out since Palmetto. I feel like his priorities have shifted. Like he’s keeping things from me. I wish I could count on him more when it comes to Trixie. I did not sign on to raise my daughter as a single parent. It’s like he is avoiding us. 

I also don’t think whining about it is going to solve anything, so I guess I’ll shut up now. I’m moving forward. No point in wishing for something that is never going to happen. 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

February 6, 2016 

Dear Diary, 

I met the most annoying guy a couple of weeks ago. The nutjob goes by the name ‘Lucifer’ and claims to be the Devil himself. Can you believe it?? Anyway, he has this posh British accent and the smuggest smile I’ve ever seen in my life. He thinks he is God’s gift to women and oozes arrogance from every pore of his body. In fact, annoying falls way short of describing his particular brand of ‘dickishness’. And, yes, he might have saved my life after I got shot, but the point is that he wasn’t supposed to be tagging along in the first place! 

I’m now recovering from said gunshot wound, bored to death and counting the days until I can go back to work. Staying home watching sitcoms is not really my preferred form of pastime. The moment I let my mind wonder it takes me back to that day in the park when I was a little girl. Bullies and baseball caps. It is better than the alternative, to be honest. 

If I could only keep that wacko Morningstar and his shit-eating grin out of my mind! Ugh! 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

February 29, 2016 

Dear Diary, 

Who the hell _is_ Lucifer Morningstar? 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

March 7, 2016 

Dear Diary, 

Lucifer snuck into my house, made breakfast and saw my boobs. It’s only Monday. 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

March 9, 2016 

Dear Diary, 

I shot him! Dear God! I SHOT him! The stupid fool taunted me into doing it and, like an idiot, I fell right into his delusion! I thought I was immune to that weird mojo of his!! 

What was I thinking??? My mind was playing nasty tricks on me and I just pulled the trigger! Thank God it was just a graze. I felt the world literally crumbling around me when I saw the blood seeping from his leg. I saw my career vanishing before my very eyes. 

Why would he even cover for me? Now I owe him a favor! 

There are so many things I still don’t get about him. He is a mystery that keeps unravelling and I’m not sure I want to keep digging deeper. I’m afraid of what I might find. Not that being a little anxious of the unknown has ever stopped me before, but this time feels different. Like I should be scared of what lies ahead, except I really wouldn’t call it fear. There is something about Lucifer that beckons me, like metal to a magnet. 

Let’s just keep this between us for now, though. I’ll never hear the end of it if he were to find out. 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

April 17, 2016 

Dear Diary, 

If you can’t beat them, join them. I’m officially searching for missing angel wings. My life has turned into a circus. I guess that’s the price to pay for refusing to drop the Palmetto mystery. Tit-for-tat, as Lucifer would say. 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

April 20, 2016 

Dear Diary, 

Today Malcom woke up from the coma. 

Shit! Now what? 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

April 21, 2016 

Dear Diary, 

Dan and I kissed tonight. I have no idea how it happened, it just did. It felt like old times again. He was so sweet, and so comforting, and it had been such a tiresome case… Before we knew what was happening, our lips just met. I would be lying if I said I didn’t like it. Being with Dan is so easy, and he feels so familiar, it is hard to ignore how much I missed his company. Maybe we should reconsider our separation. I wonder how he feels about it. One thing is for sure: we need to talk. Perhaps tomorrow. 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

April 24, 2016 

Dear Diary, 

I know Dan and I need to talk about the kiss, but my heart wasn’t really in it last night. Should I feel guilty? It’s not like he seemed overly eager to talk himself. Besides, I needed to check if Lucifer was okay. I’ve never seen him so broken before. 

I still can’t wrap my head around what happened at the church. It scared the shit out of me. I wanted to confront Lucifer about it right there and then, but it wasn’t really the time or the place. He appeared hollow and distant as the emergency services loaded Father Frank’s body onto the ambulance. I really had to stop myself from offering him a hug. How inappropriate would that have been? I can totally picture his wtf face had I gone for it. He doesn’t seem like the touchy-feely type. 

So, for better or worse, I ended up at LUX. Making a fool of myself at the piano was a fair price to pay to see him smiling again. Why should I care so much about my nutjob consultant’s state of mind? The fact is I do. Gosh, I really _do_ care. 

I never thought I’d say this, but he’s actually a pretty good guy. 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

May 20, 2016 

Dear Diary, 

Where do I even start? My personal life has been on a downward spiral since Dan broke up with me by text. The asshole! Very mature, Detective Douche! 

And then there’s Lucifer… What could have possessed me to go into his penthouse drunk as a sailor and throw myself at him? Why did I even go to him in the _first_ place? I guess I wanted to get back at Dan by sleeping with the one guy who makes it a habit to belittle him every chance he gets. Not the wisest decision, but one that I found totally reasonable after downing half a bottle of Merlot at the house. God, I don't even remember how I got to LUX in the first place! What is wrong with me?? 

And, why would he even turn my advances down? I mean, I’m glad he did, don’t get me wrong. But, still, was I not ‘bimboey’ enough for his taste? Not that I remember anything that happened last night, anyway. At all. Jesus! How drunk was I?? 

All I remember is waking up buck naked in a strange bed, covered by silk sheets (damn, I should invest in some of those!), and suffering from the worst hangover of my life. But perhaps it was hearing Lucifer’s mocking voice what made me wish for the Earth to swallow me whole. The bastard was having fun at my expense. Too bad I didn’t have my gun. I would’ve shot him right there and then! 

Of course I made it as far as the elevator before I had to rush back into his bathroom and empty what little liquor was left in my stomach. I barely made it to the toilet on time. How embarrassing! Well, that seemed to put a cork on Lucifer’s taunting. I didn’t really know what to make of his expression as he handed me a damp washcloth once I was done and made my way over to the sink with wobbly legs. Neither of us said anything after that. 

I guess that was for the best. 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

May 21, 2016 

Dear Diary, 

Why didn’t Lucifer sleep with me when he had the chance? I have been thinking about it ever since this morning. It’s not that I feel rejected. Perhaps I did at first, but not anymore. I just can’t wrap my head around the fact that the one guy who is willing to have sex with anything with a pulse would draw the line at sleeping with me. I might not give him the credit he deserves. I was drunk blind, after all. And Lucifer is a lot of things, but he is not that kind of sleaze ball. The point is that, subconsciously, I felt comfortable enough to show up at his place despite my lack of sound judgement. I trusted him to do the right thing, and he didn’t let me down. 

I guess I trust him more than I realized. 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

June 17, 2016 

Dear Diary, 

Okay, I made the monumental mistake of telling Lucifer that he makes me vulnerable. What the hell was I thinking??? 

He’s been avoiding me for weeks. And now this stupid satanic case has been thrown on my lap. I hate to admit it, but I need his insight on it. At least it will give me a chance to confront him about why he’s been avoiding me. 

It’s not that I miss him. It’s just… I need his help on this. Really. 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

June 21, 2016 

Dear Diary, 

Yesterday was such an emotional rollercoaster I’m surprised I have the energy to sit and write. Dan’s betrayal slipped to a distant second plane the moment my worst nightmare came true. Trixie was taken from me. Powerless doesn’t even begin to describe how I felt! Disgust, impotence, despair, defeat, for starters. It is impossible to put into words what ran through my mind at the time. If Lucifer hadn’t shown up when he did… I just don’t even want to dwell on that thought. 

And then my world shattered completely the moment I saw Lucifer get shot. God, there was so much blood! I wanted to run to him so badly! Tixie, Lucifer… He was ripping everything away from me. My hate for Malcom suddenly knew no bounds. 

And, yet, the whole night is still a blur. I still don’t know how we got out of that hangar alive. I still don’t know if what I saw was real. Am I going crazy? 

Once thing is certain: Malcom is dead, and so is Palmetto. 

There is something else that’s also quite certain: there is something not at all natural about Lucifer Morningstar. First thing tomorrow, I’ll take the sample of the blood I gathered at the scene to the lab. If it comes back as some kind of mutant blood, he and I are going to have a lengthy conversation. Enough of that ‘I’m the Devil’ nonsense. I want the truth, damn it! 

I’m off to check on Trixie again. I let her sleep in my bed tonight. I think it was more for my own benefit than hers. It is so good to feel her close to me. She’s home. She’s safe. 

Thank you, Lucifer. 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

September 14, 2016 

Dear Diary, 

Trixie is using manipulation to get us to buy her a new doll. Lucifer’s solution? Get her what she wants with extras. One of these days I’m going to kill him! 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

October 29, 2016 

Dear Diary, 

Maze and I are moving in together. Am I crazy to agree to this? Probably. But I need a place of my own in a good school district for Trixie, and there is no way I could make the rent for a decent place in LA on my salary alone. So psychotic demon roommate to the rescue. I have probably lost my mind and I will live to regret this decision. I just know it. But, hey, desperate times call for desperate measures. Besides, Lucifer’s scheme to get me to have a girl’s night out notwithstanding, it was actually kind of fun to hang out with this weirdo. 

On a side note, I was in a car accident yesterday. I’m trying to hold it together and act brave around everyone. Especially Lucifer. He’s been acting like a mother hen ever since he found out. I’ve been trying to put him at ease, but he’s relentless. After all, I got out of it with just a minor cut on my head. It could’ve been much worse. I was lucky. Let’s just leave it at that and move on. 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

October 31, 2016 

Dear Diary, 

I’m worried sick about Lucifer. I have never seen him acting out the way he did today. I can’t believe he was actually on a suicide mission when he showed up at the clinic. What is going on with him? I want to be there for him. I want to offer him some comfort. But he keeps pushing me away. It is so freaking frustrating!!! He says I will never understand. How the hell does he know that when he refuses to open up? I would at least _try_ to understand. I’m his _friend_ , damn it! Can’t he see that?? I care about him. What makes him think I would turn my back on his pain? 

I really hope he finds the help he needs. It’s tearing me apart to see him like this. I feel so helpless! 

I might stop by the penthouse later tonight, just to make sure he’s okay and hasn’t done anything stupid. Dear God! Please don’t let him do anything stupid! 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

November 22, 2016 

Dear Diary, 

I meant to turn to you sooner, but I couldn’t put my feelings into words. Dad’s real killer was apprehended two days ago. I’ve tried my best to come to terms with my emotions. I have been holding everything in for so long, it took a simple comment from Lucifer to open the floodgate. “Your father will be proud of you”. That’s all he said. And then I lost it. The poor guy thought he had hurt my feelings. Sometimes he can be so adorable. I don’t know why I just wrote that. Maybe it is because I found his embrace so incredibly warm and soothing. I never wanted to let go. It felt like… home. Is that crazy? It sounds stupid, I know. But I realized something at that moment: Lucifer Morningstar has become my rock. 

Yes. He grounds me. 

Wow! When did that happen? 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

December 24, 2016 

Dear Diary, 

This was the weirdest Christmas Eve I’ve ever had. I’ll make a note to expand on that thought later, but the image of my mom and Dan singing Lucifer’s perverted version of traditional Christmas carols while Trixie helped Maze stuff the Santa suit she was wearing with the sofa cushions will forever be burned in my mind’s eye. 

I also might have had a little too much eggnog… 

CDJ 

**= 666 =**

February 27, 2017 

Dear Diary, 

He stood me up. The bastard! All that bullshit about ‘friends help each other out’? Utter crap! Doing the walk of shame out of that expensive restaurant was so humiliating I wanted to scream. Screw you, Lucifer! 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

March 1, 2017 

Dear Diary, 

Lucifer and I went on a date. It happened completely unexpectedly at LUX. It all went to hell in the end, and we never even kissed. We came close, though. Really close. I just found it odd that the eternal gigolo would keep stalling! He was actually nervous, can you believe that? I’m not going to lie. I was shaking like a leaf myself, but for once I was doing a better job at hiding it. Lucifer, on the other hand… One would have to know him as well as I do to detect how much of a wreck he was! 

Well, thankfully nothing happened. It is for the best. We are just too different. It would never work out. 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

March 3, 2017 

Dear Diary, 

I kissed him. I can’t believe I kissed Lucifer! Granted, he deserved it after spilling his soul in a beautiful, self-deprecating speech. By the way, he actually knows my middle name, wtf? Anyway, he sounded so honest and so defeated… 

My heart just melted. So I kissed him. And he kissed me back. 

It was soft, and tender, and we both enjoyed every minute of it. 

It feels so right to be with him. Like there is nobody else out there who could make me feel this way. Could he be ‘the one’? Lucifer, of all people?? 

It’s now almost 11pm and we have been sexting for the past half hour. I had never sexted before. It is so much fun! And hot! Oh, I can’t believe he just went there! Is it getting hotter in here?? It’s the red wine. I’ts making me blush. And a little tipsy. 

Damn, he's a great kisser!

Okay, a cold shower before bed is in order. :) 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

March 13, 2017 

Dear Diary, 

Why did he leave? We didn’t even have a chance to talk. I almost died. I needed him by my side. I need him by my side now. Every night I wake up gasping, wondering why I'm alive, how I'm alive. Maybe I really do have a guardian angel watching over me. Maybe my friends and colleagues were guided by something... greater. It is hard not to think about these things after coming so close to dying. Is there a God out there? Is that why I'm still alive? As far as I know, finding the antidote on time was something short of a miracle. 

I should be dead. 

There is so much I don't understand. 

I should be DEAD! 

I wish I could talk to Lucifer about this. His answers never make sense, but they're always comforting.

Where is he? I must have left him a hundred messages. Why hasn’t he called me back? I called again this morning and his phone seems to be disconnected. I hope he’s okay. He wouldn’t have left without saying good-bye unless something was terribly wrong. 

Where are you, Lucifer? 

I’m worried sick about you. I need to know you’re okay. 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

March 20, 2017 

What a fucking jerk!!! I’m done with him! DONE! 

I can’t believe he just waltzes back from Vegas clung to a ditzy bimbo expecting me to welcome him with open arms! He’s such a selfish, conceited, insensitive piece of crap! 

I’m moving on. That’s it!!! No more!!! 

As far as I’m concerned, Lucifer Morningstar can go to HELL! 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

May 30, 2017 

Dear Diary, 

Dan is sleeping with Lucifer’s stepmom. I could elaborate, but I really have no words. 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

September 11, 2017 

Dear Diary, 

Yes, I know. It has been a while. I have just been so busy with work and Trixie and life in general, it is sometimes hard to keep up a journal. But since Trix is spending the night at Dan’s, and Maze is off bounty hunting, I thought I just pour myself a glass of wine and give you an update. 

Let’s see… We have a new lieutenant at the precinct. He is a jerk and I don’t see us getting along anytime soon. Plus he seems to have singled me out when it comes to showing off his ‘dickishness’. Lucky me! 

Also, Lucifer is acting kind of strange as of late. Well, stranger than usual, anyway. He left me a message a couple of days ago telling me how important it was for me to know the truth, yadda, yadda, yadda... Why does he have to be so weird? For a second I almost believed he was going to reveal something Earth shattering. I really need to stop falling for his crazy stunts (for my own sanity!). Is he purposely trying to make a fool out of me, or has he gone completely off his meds? I just wish he’d stop toying with my emotions. Especially when I’m trying to get over… whatever it is that we had. I know. It’s taking me a while. I hate to admit it, but I’m still not over him. Some days are better than others, but my heart still aches for what we could have had. But I rather not dwell on that. The point is he’s making it ten times harder with his wacky games. 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

October 7, 2017 

Dear Diary, 

Once again I have come face to face with death. Thankfully Lieutenant Pierce was there. He took a bullet for me and I cannot thank him enough for his bravery. I guess the risk comes with the territory. I just don’t think anybody can get used to the prospect of dying day in and day out. And yet, that’s a cop’s life. 

On a positive note, Pierce is not the asshole I thought he was when he first joined the precinct. He’s actually kinda nice. And now I owe him my life. 

As to Lucifer, he really can get under my skin sometimes. That’s all I’m going to say about it. Grrrrrr!!!! 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

November 8, 2017 

Dear Diary, 

Yesterday was my birthday. I didn’t expect anything special, but I also didn’t expect Lucifer running off to Vegas without any explanation whatsoever. Of course, every time I get clobbered by something Lucifer does I end up doing something stupid. Like going to his penthouse with his shrink (no less) for a good sulk disguised as a celebration. Not sad or pathetic at all (I’m rolling my eyes, in case you hadn’t caught onto the sarcasm). 

But give it to Lucifer to redeem himself in the most unexpected ways possible. God knows I find candid Lucifer impossible to resist, and hearing his whispered apology as I pretended to sleep turned me into a cup of Jell-O. I don’t even think he bought into my fake yawn, not that he called out my bluff. Instead, he handed me a small jewelry box. 

My birthday gift. 

He never fails to surprise me. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat as I opened the box and saw what was in it. I felt tears prickling my eyes. Tears I tried to hold back to no avail. We have been through so much together it feels like we’ve known each other for ages. All the disappointment and the tension that had been crushing me all day evaporated with a single joke, and I started laughing with joy, with relief, with love for this impossibly unpredictable partner of mine. 

This time when I urged him to come for a hug he did so willingly. I needed that. I needed to feel him near me. It sounds silly, I know. But my birthday wouldn’t have been the same without Lucifer by my side. 

This morning I woke up next to him, with my hand clutching the pendant. We were both fully dressed (I happened to be wearing one of his shirts, but I digress…). I don’t even know at what time we ended up succumbing to sleep after spending most of the night reminiscing. 

It was fun. It was special. It was the best birthday gift he could’ve given me. 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

November 27, 2017 

Dear Diary, 

The bastard ditched me! After all I did for him! After I was willing to break the rules and put my career on the line to carry out his crazy plan. He then goes off and ditches me! This is my fault for trusting him! I’m done with him! DONE! 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

January 10, 2018 

Dear Diary, 

Is it wrong of me to find my partner’s and my boss’ lip-locking as hot as I did? Just wondering… 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

February 26, 2018 

Dear Diary, 

I was taken to my first prom tonight and it was all I could’ve dreamed of and more. I felt like a princess. It’s silly, I know. How old am I, 12?? 

Anyway, I’ve been listening to Yazoo since I got home. I can still feel Lucifer’s body swaying against mine, the scent of his cologne, the warmth of his breath on my neck. I really thought he was going to kiss me at one point, but he pulled back. I’m not sure whether to feel relief or disappointment. I have a feeling he is hiding something from me. Nothing new there. Except, I got the strange feeling he’s hiding something _about_ me. I wish he would confide in me a little more. I hope he will one day. Whatever it is he thinks I might not understand, I’ll prove him wrong. 

In the meantime, I’ll take whatever he offers. And this evening was a nice treat. We danced, we talked, we laughed… It was an evening I will never forget, all courtesy of my partner. My best friend. 

Dear Diary, I keep falling deeper, and I can’t stop it. I don’t want to love him as much as I do. 

But I do. 

CJD 

**= 666 =**

[To Be Continued…] 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments and feedback are always welcome (whether positive or… not so  
>  positive) and are often and inspiration. ;-)


End file.
